Shot at Dawn
by Riverdancer17
Summary: my first story :  peter and edmund have joined the army and susan has joined up as a nurse. After an incident peter writes a letter to lucy from prison to explain what thay've done. NO INCEST. rated t cos of language and major character death.
1. Chapter 1

Dearest Lucy,

By now I suppose everyone will know what we've done but please don't tear this letter up before you've read it. You need to hear the full story. I know that it'll all be in the papers and on the wireless and the accusations are true, Lucy, have no illusions about that. But we haven't been heard out properly. No one wants to listen to us; they just want it to be all easy. I can't give you all the details now, Lu, the censure would only omit them, but they don't censor letters from the men awaiting execution. Usually there's no point, their all about regret and repentance and eternal love to family etc. etc. So each of Edmund and I are allowed an uncensored letter. They'll both be to you, Lucy. Both in my handwriting, I don't want to put Edmund through the memories again, but I'll tell you my version of events. All that has happened. This doesn't count, I'm writing this in the barrack room on my last night as a free man, and tomorrow Tom will take it to the post. The platoon tried so hard, they're a good group of men, don't blame them when you know. But it was a show trial; we couldn't have won if we tried. It's over now; the papers won't know that yet and the officers are coming for us tonight at about 9 o' clock. We're going to prison for the night and then tomorrow… well you'll know soon enough. Remember 2 letters in my hand writing. Watch the post, darling.

Your brother

Peter pevensie.


	2. Chapter 2

**An: I suddenly realised that I didn't do an author's note for the last chapter so I need to do one for this chapter. This fic is kind of depressing but it is a present for a friend of mine who is doing GCSE history and studying the Second World War. She says it can't be entertaining so I'm trying to prove her wrong! So enjoy! **

**For Freyja x**

_As I fold the letter and hand it to Tom, I look up at Edmund. He, like me, is sitting at the end of his bed. His hands are clasped in his lap and he is staring ahead with wide brown eyes set in a face that is pale green and clammy. I can see him trembling from here. I bite my lip and look up at Tom, who is also staring at Ed with a look of horror on his face. The rest of the platoon are the same, not really avoiding us but as they moodily gamble or write letters home I am conscious of pitying glances that, when I raise my eyes to meet them, are quickly averted. The bare little room, usually so full of the life and noise of soldiers far from home, is hushed and subdued. "Almost as if someone has died" and even though I am sickened by my own twisted humour, I allow myself a bitter smile. Tom, seeing this, forces a smile of his own and grips my shoulder for an instant, before going back to his poker game. For what must be the hundredth time I check over mine and Edmunds bed space. Both are spotlessly clean. The narrow beds aired and made with a kit bag leaned up against the headboard. We have both spent the last hour packing and making sure nothing we could possibly want has been left behind. There isn't much to take. All that is in mine is another clean set of uniform, a sponge bag, three photographs and a woman's wedding ring. I glance down at the matching ring on my left hand, from this my gaze travels over my neat battle dress uniform and onto the pair of kit bags lying on the floor. On mine the word 'sergeant' has been completely obliterated by 3 years of rain and use but the initials 'P.J Pevensie' are still readable, on Edmund's you can still see the 'corporal' but the A and two R's are missing from 'E.W Harrison'. I look again at Edmund. I can't work out whether he's going to cry or be sick. I suddenly realise I am only doing this checking up so I won't have to think about what is happening in the next few days. I wouldn't blame Edmund if he did cry. He's only sixteen poor kid, poor kid. I'm coming up to twenty one and will soon be at my most useful to the army. Would have been at my most useful. The waste of life leaves me astounded. Suddenly the whole platoon stands, as an officer and four red cap corporals walk into the room. The young captain looks tired, as though he'd rather be anywhere else than here. He can't be much older than me and I know the feeling. He takes a piece of paper from his pocket and speaks. "Sergeant Peter James Pevensie" I step forward "Corporal Edmund William Harrison" Ed steps forward. I am not surprised when I see that his face isn't green anymore but white and set. The officer is still speaking 'an enquiry into the incident on the 11 November 1943 brought forth evidence that te both of you were involved in the death of ward sister Susan Elizabeth Pevensie. Sister to corporal Harrison and Wife to sergeant Pevensie.' He looks up at both of us and I see his expression flick from exhaustion and thinly veiled contempt to horror as he clocks how old Ed is. His voice falters but a glare from the corporal on his left sets him right. 'you have been tried and found guilty by court marshal of her murder and dereliction of duty. The sentence of the court is … execution by firing squad at dawn on the 20__th__ December 1943…' there is more but I can't be bothered to listen. Instead I tuck my blonde hair into my cap and crack my knuckles. Edmund is staring stony faced at the young man reading our sentence. Neither of us resist or even respond as the officer throws me a pleading look and 2 men hold our hands behind our back and push us out of the narrow door. I look back and what I see nearly makes me cry. Every man in the platoon is saluting at mine and Edmund's retreating backs I smile tightly before one of the men holding my hands slaps me hard across the face, knocking my cap off. It is then shoved roughly back on my head covered in mud. We are frogmarched to the small prison and shoved into a cell together. The officer looks in the window as he locks the door and I stare serenely back until I hear Edmund yelling "why don't you piss of and join the German army, you bastard" I turn to the interior of the room. Edmund is sitting on one of the tatty bunks with his head in his hands. The room is bare and cold. The only furniture are the bunks and a roughly made wooden table and two chairs. "if only Narnia could see her kings now!" I say bitterly. Edmund gives me a sickly smile. "And her gentle queen." He chokes. I freeze at the mention of her title but Ed continues "are you going to write to Lucy then?" I cross to the door and rap on the hatch. It opens and I ask for paper and 2 pencils. "Two sides of paper each." Someone on the other side growls as the paper is handed through. "I'm going to sleep Pete." Ed says quietly "Please get some sleep as well." I smile at him and squeeze his shoulder before going to sit at the table. I really don't think I'm going to be able to sleep. Lucy needs to know what really happened._


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Lu…

Dearest Lucy…

Luce…

_I can't do it. I can't tell her what I did to her sister. Of course, she already knows. The papers have been full of it for weeks but I can't tell her why. My reasons. I don't want to relive it but… in a small way I think writing it down is like a confession. It means we did it and it means I had a reason. The reason was a good one but if it wasn't good enough to convince a jury of a man's life, will it be good enough for Lucy?_

Dear Lucy,

I have always loved you Lucy. You've always been able to see the best in me. Even on days when I felt like dirt you've always been able to see the light over the dark in me. I only hope you can see it this time. I hope you can forgive me the one time I really need you to.

_The reason that Lucy is my sister and Susan wasn't is because, when I was four, my father remarried. My mother had run off with a merchant sailor so father had to take care of me by himself. My father met Susan and Edmunds mother three months after the death of her husband, Susan and Edmund father. Leaving her broke, unable to work and six months pregnant. They waited until about a month after Edmund was born (people would have said that mine and Edmund's father was the same person if they had married during Helen's pregnancy) and then got married. One year later and little Lucy was born with the dark hair that Susan, Edmund and their mother share and mine and my father's blue eyes. She was certainly the baby and rather spoilt in the beginning. We all doted on her until I turned fourteen. Then something disastrous happened. When I was fourteen my father died. He was a mine surveyor and was killed during an explosion at desford colliery. This was a massive shock to Helen who was expecting another child, and within a week she miscarried. She was unable to work or even get out of bed for weeks, so Susan and I ended up playing 'mummy and daddy'. We cared for everyone. A typical afternoon was, I picked Lucy and Edmund up from school while Susan sprinted home and cooked supper for her mother, then she would set the little ones off playing or doing their homework while I took up Helen's dinner, then Susan made our supper and I did my shift with the little ones. At eight Lucy and Edmund went to bed and Susan and I did our homework poised all evening for if one of the 3 upstairs wanted something. It was often well after midnight when we went to bed. So it was until we were evacuated to professor kirke's house when I was almost sixteen. I remember the evacuation date was one of the few day recently when Susan and I were speaking. We had been arguing a lot, mainly through lack of sleep. These would usually end with Susan in tears and me storming out to find someone to take it all out on. That someone, more often than not, was Edmund._


	4. Chapter 4

Every word I said to the lion was true you know Lucy. I was angry at him and I do think that helped him go bad, but mainly I think he was lonely. You came along very soon after he did and he never knew his father. He wasn't our father's son so he never took the interest in Edmund that he did in me. Ed is sleeping now, fitfully, calling out his sister's names and sweating. Our last night on earth, I think he can be excused disturbing my sleep. I've never blamed him for going to the witch; his own conscience is by far punishment enough.

_Oh lord, did Ed prove himself later! He was a great king. She was a great queen. When I killed Maugrim for her I realised just how much she meant to me, how much it would hurt if I lost her, how much I would do to keep her with me. It is still harder than it probably should be to say that I was in love with her. I had been for a long time and Narnia just seemed to give life to it. But I could never tell her. Even my beloved Narnia could give me that power. I would be talking to her and just think 'oh just do it' but then she would smile or laugh or contradict my last point. It would have broken me to see the disgusted look I imagined made real. So we returned to England. That day was three months exactly before my thirty-first birthday. To suddenly fall back into the body of a sixteen year old is no joke I can tell you! But it gave me a second chance. I could watch Susan grow up again and maybe, just maybe, I could tell her how I felt. I emerge from this train of thought and look at my watch. It is 1am and I have nearly eight hours to wait. In midwinter being shot at dawn can almost be classed as a lie in._


	5. Chapter 5

Edmund stopped breathing a minute ago. I shook him until he started again. I know it's selfish but I don't want to spend my final hours alone with my memories. They're too good at haunting me for that to really be an option. Ed's breathing is regular again, although my heart stops every time I hear them falter.

_One year after we entered Narnia for the first time we went back. To help the boy Caspian. I know that I myself was little more than a boy when I took the throne of Narnia, but I've never been able to accept Caspian as king. Maybe it's because Narnia didn't need me anymore or because he was allowed to stay when Susan and I were turned away. Or maybe it's because he kissed Susan before I did. If I'm honest it's probably the last one. He was always looking at her, following her with his eyes. That's why I was so aggressive towards him. I know that Lucy and Edmund were confused about that. Anyway, that only made me more determined to tell her how I felt. A few nights after we got back from Narnia, I found her in the kitchen, crying. Obviously five years after her miscarriage, medically, Helen was fine but she was never the same. She would spend hours just staring out the window and would interject random observations into a conversation about something completely different. So, of course, Susan and I still had to look after everyone. Susan was crying into the washing up. I was just passing, having put Lucy to bed. When I heard her I was just about to see to Edmund but I went in anyway. She told me she couldn't believe that we would never be going back. I put my arm around her waist and held her tight as I dared. 'I miss it so.' She sobbed into my shirtfront. 'You miss Caspian.' I said bad-temperedly. She wrinkled that perfect nose 'no! Certainly not!' that inspired a little spark of hope in me and it sort of just came out how I felt about her. To my surprise and intense pleasure, she touched my cheek and said 'I love you too, Peter.' And then we were kissing and everything was wonderful, when suddenly Ed was in the doorway, open mouthed saying 'blimey, that's what I call a goodnight kiss!' and we all laughed when Susan threw the dishcloth at him._


	6. Chapter 6

_We had four months of wonderful togetherness but in January 1941 I was called up. I was eighteen years old. Susan cried in my arms and begged me not to go but I had no choice. I did promise her that we'd get married the first leave I was allowed. Helen objected. She said we needed to wait until we both had some money, Susan was training as a nurse, but we both said no. I wanted her to be my wife should anything happen to me. So on the 23__rd__ January 1941 Edmund, Susan and I all boarded the train for Portsmouth to report for duty. Susan, even though she was only half trained, was going to work in a hospital in Dunkirk. _

Do you remember when Edmund joined up? 3 nights before I went away Edmund came home and told us that he didn't care what any of us thought, he'd joined up. Lied about his age and told the sergeant that he was seventeen. Edmund Harrison, gone for a soldier at fourteen. Susan and I were furious and you cried for hours, do you remember? But he just didn't care, even his mother's tears couldn't sway him…

_Edmund and I were in the same platoon, dispatched for training at Ypres. We said goodbye to Susan at Dunkirk. The training was hard but I came out of it a sergeant with Ed my first Corporal. My weekly letter from Susan kept me going through the blood and bombings of the English battles, somehow it was just so much worse than in Narnia and I hated every moment. Finally, blissfully my leave came up and Susan took a week at the same time. We were married on 21__st__ august, me in my dress uniform wearing a stupid grin as she stood next to me at the altar, gripping my hand. She, in her mother's wedding dress altered to fit. There was no money for anything else, besides, you couldn't get a wedding dress for love nor money what with rationing and all. She was seventeen and I was eighteen, young love eh? We barely saw each other for our first year of marriage. I had six weeks annual leave, she just four. After we had been married about four months Susan told me she was pregnant. I was over the moon. Our daughter, Emily, was born 2__nd__ may 1942, but I didn't see her until she was a month old and even then I could only wangle three days. Emily died on the 3__rd__ of April 1943, in the same bombing raid that killed her grandmother Helen. Of course, Susan and I were distraught. There had been no more children and, as we had both used up all our leave, we couldn't even go home for the funerals._


	7. Chapter 7

None of the next bit, you'll know Lucy. The next time I saw Susan was shortly after your mother's funeral. A mortar bomb landed on our gun position. We'd been manning it for about a week by then, the last lot of gunners had moved on and their replacements hadn't arrived yet, so we were draughted in as extras to help with ACK-ACK duties. The bomb landed on a nearby ammunition dump, in actual fact, but the shock wave was such to set light to all the ammunition being used on our gun, killing seven men. It was carnage. I remember the stretcher bearers just not knowing who to take and who to leave…

_I won't tell her what else I remember. The un-injured and lightly wounded running back to re-man the gun position, while the dead lay, covered in blankets lined up around the gun base…_

Comparatively I was lucky, Lu. I had a broken arm and burns over most of my body, but I was alive and that's what really counts. Thanks be to the lion that Susan was working in the hospital I was taken to. I swear to you if she hadn't been there it would have taken twice as long to heal. When she came off duty in the evenings she used to sit and talk or read to me and I loved that because I had my wife back and it was just like we were at home again, making conversation over dinner. But it couldn't last. I was out of there within a month worse luck, the day I was discharged Susan slipped me her cigarette ration and told me to be careful. Poor girl, she only saw the most brutal and tragic events of the war, it must have been hard for her to see me injured but still remain impartial.

_I wasn't to see Susan for another five months. And when I did, I did something terrible…_


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: first of all I wanna say thank you very much to Lucycrewe11 for your reviews I will take your advice on board (I'm always getting told off for the paragraph thing at school :s) so here goes! Chapter 7! (And in 1940 the age for joining up was lowered to seventeen, sergeants would in fact take boys of below that. They were told to walk round the block for the number of years they had until they turned seventeen, I know cos this happened to my granddad in Birmingham) oh and comms is short for Radio Communications. Sorry, st John ambulance geek :s!**

In November my platoon got a call to say that five nurses were being held hostage in an abandoned hospital at Ardennes by a few escaped POWs. We were to get there, arrest the captors and save as many of the hostages as we could.

It was an emergency call so we got the lorries loaded up pretty quick and moved out to the call sign we had been given. We had six men with us so it was pretty tight running, you understand.

_It took us almost an hour to break into the comms unit they were using at the hospital, every so often a gun would go off and we'd all jump but every inch dug was an inch closer to those remaining…_

When we got inside we found a jerry (**BEF slang for German)** holding a gun to the head of a nurse. The man holding it turned to see as we came in the building and the gun ended up pointing at her neck. He must have pulled the trigger because suddenly there was blood everywhere and the kid with the pistol looked like he'd seen a ghost. They surrendered almost immediately after that.

Two men got the nurses on the trucks (**st John slang for ambulance) **a quick headcount revealed that only one had been injured and that was the one on the floor. Ed and a couple of others stood over the captives. To be honest they didn't need the rifles they were holding, the looks on their faces would have scared Hitler himself. I went over to the injured nurse.

There was blood everywhere, flowing fast and her face was chalky white. She was breathing so I tapped her on the shoulder and asked her to open her eyes. She followed that command and it was only then that I recognised Susan.

_I think my heart broke right around then. She was a mess, covered in blood and dirt off the floor; it was in her hair, on her face, scraped across her uniform… and the worst thing? Those beautiful, shining brown eyes, dull and almost black with the pain…_

I helped her sit up and she gritted her teeth against the pain in her neck. I was at a loss what to do, so I tore a strip off my tunic and held it to the gaping wound on her neck. She put her hand on mine and pushed it down further, before giving a little cry of pain and dropping her hand. That's what did for me Lu. That even when I was trying to help I only hurt her.

Ed came over after they'd finished loading up. He froze when he recognised his sister but when he recovered he tapped me on the shoulder and lead me away to another part of the room.

"What are we going to do?" he asked. I wiped at my face. I didn't know when I'd started to cry but I felt the hot tears running down my face now.

"I don't know." I whispered "it's pretty obvious that wound is fatal but it'll be a slow and painful death..." I couldn't bring myself to say anymore. I could see the tears shining in Ed's eyes

"so we radio another ambulance and wait yeah?" I looked away.

"there is another option…"


	9. Chapter 9

_My hands are shaking far too much to write as I remember the coldness in Edmund's voice. I really think he hated me at that moment… I remember it so well no matter how hard I try to forget._

"_No, Peter." Edmund's voice was hard_

"_Do you want her to suffer for hours?"_

"_She is my sister! Your wife!"_

I shut my eyes unable to believe what I was saying. I remember the image of her sat against the wall, burnt into my eyes even when they were closed_._

"_Which is why we need to end it like this."_

The horror written on Edmund's face was almost painful as he grabbed my arm and begged me to reconsider…

"_Peter, please think about what you're doing! I don't think I can do it ,Peter. Listen to me, please Peter…"_

I watched the tears roll down his face, before wiping my own. I wouldn't let her see me crying, it would have frightened her. I knelt in front of her and took both her hands I mine…

"_Susan."_

She looked at me and I felt dreadful. Did you know, Lucy, that when your heart breaks it feels like there really is a big, deep crack running all the way down your chest?

"_I need you to do something." I managed to choke._

She obviously couldn't speak but she looked at me like she knew what I wanted. I struggled with what I had to say, fighting with myself.

"_You're going to die, Su." And I had to stop because saying it to her was admitting it to myself. "You're going to die, but if we leave you like this it will be very painful and it will take a long time."_

Her gaze was steady and her manner was calm but I could read the fear buried just behind her eyes…

"_Or" I said, hating myself "I can… end it quickly." I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I need you to make that choice."_

She was silent and then she reached out and took my revolver from its holster. She leant forward and placed it in my trembling hand. She seemed to muster up her remaining strength and whispered in my ear…

"_My life is yours for the taking."_

Ed knelt down and hugged her, the tears streaming down his cheeks, but I hardly noticed.

_I am seventeen again, standing over Miraz with my sword drawn. He has caused so much pain and misery, if I just swing the sword down the world will be so much a better place._

"_What's the matter boy?" he sneers "To weak to take a life?"_

_Too weak to take a life…?_

_To take a life…?_

_Too weak…?_

_I remember looking at my wife on the ground in her sobbing brother's arms and thinking "I wasn't then. But this time I am."_


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: hi, just a quick note. In the next chapter there'll be a priest. I'm a Christian, so the priest is based heavily on my old school priest Father can't-be-named-for-personal-protection-reasons. Just thought I'd let you know. Enjoy!**

Edmund noticed my change in manner. He stood and took the service revolver from my shaking hand.

"_Go to her. She needs you."_

"I can't do it." I say my voice harsh and grating.

"That is why I'm saying go to her."

_I knelt beside my love and wrapped my arms around her. Her arms went round my neck and I could feel her shaking as I held her tight._

"_I'm so sorry." I whispered…_

…and I kissed her lips despite the blood. It was all over me, as I found out when the staff car arrived, even clotted into my hair, turning the blonde a weird orange colour.

_Ed tapped me on the shoulder but he won't look me in the face._

"_I'm ready." He said quietly._

I pulled Susan onto my lap and turned her to face her brother. He leant forward and swept the dark curls off her forehead.

_Susan tried to bury her head in my shoulder, so she wouldn't see the shot that killed her. Biting my lip til it bled, I gently turned her head away from me. She opened her brown eyes and looked at me pleadingly, but I had to make her face Edmund._

Lucy, I am so glad you weren't there. Not only because you would have had to witness the death of your beloved sister, but because I have seen Ed fight giants and witches. I saw him kill before he turned twelve but I have never, before or since, seen the look that Edmund Harrison wore at that moment. Edmund, the just king, looked brutal.

He was crying, tears falling in rivers across his stained face and I realised just how cruel I had been. Susan's hand in mine gripped so hard, her knuckles went white. I wrapped my arms around her, feeling her soft hair brush my face and kissed her cheek.

"_I love you, my Susie, always remember that." I repeat the words involuntarily to myself and see Ed stir on the filthy bunk, but my mind is already back on that terrible day and all that I have to write._

Edmund raised my revolver in a steady hand and I couldn't look anymore. I buried my face in the black curls. After a few seconds I heard the shot, felt her slam into me as the bullet hit her in the chest. I heard her gasp my name and look her in the face. I kiss her, in spite of the blood bubbling in the corners of her mouth.

"_Hush Su, it's fine, I'm here…" the comforting words sounded hollow to my ears. I turned her so that I could hug her one last time._

Finally, I looked at her face and saw the light leave her eyes.

_I stared for a moment, and then I was blinded by my tears._

It took her thirty seconds to die.

_It felt like thirty years._

I looked up to see Edmund fall to his knees, face in shaking hands. He was sobbing uncontrollably, my revolver still clutched in his hand.

_I forced my best friend to kill his sister. I feel like a monster._

So there you have it Lucy. The full story. A few minutes later the staff car arrived to find us still in the hospital. Me; covered in blood and Edmund holding a revolver, with a dead nurse lying between us. We were both immediately placed under arrest_._

During the trial we were both allowed out on bail, basically they still wanted us fighting and if a sniper's bullet found us, well we'd saved them the cost of a rope. It was a set up. One of the witnesses, knew nothing about the case and wasn't even in the army, but had known us in Finchley and told the prosecution all about how Susan and I used to fight. We and the platoon tried our best, but it was no good. MOD wanted someone to blame for their situation and it was just so much easier for them if it was Ed and I.

On the 19th December 1943 we were sentenced to death by firing squad at dawn on 20th December. Edmund is finally sleeping peacefully; it is just about 6 in the morning.

I love you Lucy and I pray to Aslan that, in the hours after my death, you can find it in your heart to forgive the terrible things we have done. Pray for me, little sister.

All my love, for ever,

Peter James Pevensie.


	11. Chapter 11

AN:** Hi I'm back! Yeah, I know it's really depressing and I'm not a great writer, but unlike a lot of you, I don't aspire to be a writer. I really admire the thousands of entries on this site that have the real passion and talent to be writers, but I want to be a CCP (Critical care paramedic)! I'm just doing this for a bit of fun! I'm English. Not being good at stuff is what I'm good at (apologies to all you English patriots) so don't leave empty criticism. It just makes me upset, especially when you don't tell me why you don't like my stories! So, calyn, if you want a theoretical debate, email me, I do philosophy and ethics GCSE, I'm a Christian as well and I would relish the practise to be honest. I have to apologise to LucyCrewe11 because this chapter will be all in italics, because the letter is finished and for using a quote from one of your stories. I liked it so much I just had to use it :s thanks to all those who reviewed and to those who visited please review more!**

_I stretch and look at my watch, 7 o'clock and I can just see the sun starting to rise in the east. I've never woken Ed up to sign Lucy's letter but as if that really matters. I managed to sleep about an hour but it's not enough for me to pretend I'm well rested._

_There isn't even a washstand in this cell, so I can't make myself presentable but I do the best I can, pulling a clean uniform on and brushing the worst of the mud off my cap._

_Edmund is stirring, so I poke him until he wakes up fully and turn around so he can clamber into his fresh uniform._

_At five past seven a redcap corporal enters the cell and hands us each a piece of bread and a cup of tea. We eat in silence and when we are done he comes back and takes the cup and saucer off us and tells us that the padre will be in at quarter past. I ask for a razor and a bowl of soapy water for a shave and the man hesitates but nods and hurries out of the room._

_I look over at Ed. There is no fear on his face, only a kind of boredom. I know why, we have come close to dying many more times than I can count and death holds no real fear for us. But when I look into his eyes I can see the fear hiding just below the surface and then I have to look away because it reminds me too much of the look Susan wore in her last moments._

_The corporal comes back and hands me the things I asked for, when it becomes apparent he's not leaving (probably thinks I'll top myself if he does) I set about having a shave. When I'm done I hand the razor to Edmund and in spite of himself he grins proudly. Wanting to feel grown up never wears off, I think as I cross to my bag on the floor._

_I pull out the photographs. They're all sepia but I don't need colours. I have memories, my father and Helen on their wedding day, a few years before war was declared, Edmund holding an eighteen month old Lucy and looking as if he'll drop her if the person in charge of the camera isn't careful. Finally I come to the one I'm looking for, it is a photograph taken on my own wedding day. _

_It was my wife's favourite photograph, I've no idea why. She always used to say I looked dashing, but all I can see is an idiot in oversized army uniform, with big ears, blue eyes and a grin like a concussion victim. _

_Susan, on the other hand, looks beautiful, in her mother's wedding dress, a little out of fashion but still lovely. It was full length lace, unusual because of rationing. With her black curls bouncing on her shoulders and a bunch of daffodils stolen from the park by Edmund as a wedding present, she is breathtaking. I touch the woman in the photograph and smile at the memory of her fingernails digging into my palm as she repeated what the vicar said. I take her wedding ring from my pack and slip it in my pocket. She will be with me today._

_The padre enters and shakes hands with Edmund. I rise from the crouching position on the floor and sit at a tactful distance on the floor. After a little while the padre lays his hand on Edmund's head and murmurs a blessing. Ed retreats a suitable distance and I come forward and perch myself on the chair next to the padre. _

"_Sergeant Pevensie." The old man smiles._

"_Peter Pevensie, father, we've been court marshalled." I look at my boots in embarrassment_

"_Yes, of course, peter. This is a sad day."_

"_Yes father."_

"_In the eyes of god you have committed a terrible sin."_

"_Yes father. I have asked for forgiveness."_

"_Good, good." He says quietly, almost sadly. "one so young…"_

"_Death holds no fear for me, Father." He looks up surprised._

"_Oh? And why not?"_

"_If after death there is only blackness, I have nothing to lose. All that I love is gone from this world. When I get to the next world, I will see them once again."_

_He smiles and almost chuckles. "You have remarkable faith, young man."_

"_My sister used to say, medicine is life but love is immortality."_

"_She must be a remarkable woman."_

_I think of little Lucy, looking up from the novel she had read that quote from and looking what she supposed to be worldly wise, and for the first time in ages, I grin like schoolboy. "Yes. She is."_

_The padre puts his hand on my arm "I know what you and your friend did was the right thing to do. I know that you made the right choice. You will be blessed for that."_

_I keep my expression neutral "Thank you father."_

"_It's almost time."_

_I am silent._

"_Can I do anything?" he gives me the same pleading look that the officer gave me yesterday._

_I pick up Lucy's letter and scrawl 'miss Lucy Pevensie, 23 station road, Finchley' on the front. "can you put that in the 10 o'clock post?"_

_He looks surprised but nods "of course." He stares at me for a few minutes before laying his hand gently on my head and murmurs a Latin blessing. I close my eyes and for the first time since Susan's death, I feel truly comforted._

_It doesn't last long._


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: ok chaps, here we go! (I appear to have been possessed by the spirit of jeeves and Wooster, sorry about that) the penultimate chapter! I hope you enjoy it! Thank you, again, to Lucycrewe11 for your kind review, ta very much xxx**

**Lily x**

_After a minute two men enter the room. The padre stands, salutes and says goodbye before beating a hasty retreat. The men move behind us and tie our hands behind our backs. I'm not angry and I'm not scared, I realise with some degree of shock._

_I look at Edmund. His face is pale and he has clenched his teeth, I can see the pulse jumping in his jaw. I'm not sure whether he is angry or his pride has been hurt._

_We are led out to a small square courtyard, just a few paces down from our cell, in it there are five men. I recognise all of them, and I realise with a sickening jolt that I recognise all of them. Of course. As part of our punishment they will have picked our firing squad from our own platoon._

_Edmund is walking just in front of me and I can see the date on his watch. It occurs to me that, as my birthday is 20__th__ of March, today is exactly three months before my twenty-first birthday. I raise my eyes to the heavens, silently thanking the great lion for showing me that he is with me. And thanking Lucy, for showing me that help is always available, if only you will open your eyes and look for it._

_My escort pulls me to a halt just outside the courtyard but Edmund is made to keep walking. Oh good lord, I'm going to have to watch him die!_

_The man leading him unties his hands and leads him to a wooden pole just in front of the wall. Edmund positions himself in front of it and the man pulls his arms around the back and starts to re-tie him. One of the firing squad miserably ties Edmund's legs at the knees._

_His bravery is admirable; he is looking at the firing squad, dead ahead, talking and laughing with the corporal in charge. It would seem only I can tell how afraid he is._

_There is some delay, I don't know what the cause of it is, and Ed asks for a cigarette. He stands there tied up, puffing away. The sight would be funny if I wasn't so appalled. I don't know why, except that fear is beginning to kick in and all I can think of is Helen and My father and my daughter, who I held just once before she was blown up._

_Just when I can't bare it anymore, a man steps forward. Oh Aslan this is it! But no, he is pinning a white hanky over the place where Edmund's heart is._

"_Please!" I shout and it comes out more like a shriek. "Please! Can I say goodbye?" it sounds childish but we haven't spoken all morning and so many things have simply drifted away, unsaid. The corporal nods and I am lead in front of the wall, where I too will shortly meet my end._

_I stand in the cold wind, the sliver of light from the breaking dawn ever widening and all I can say is; "Good bye Ed." His face is ghastly white, making a strange contrast to the breeze blowing through his black hair. "'Bye Pete." He croaks through dry lips, and the voice of the great public speaker I once knew is now almost a whisper. All too soon my escort drags me back to the narrow doorway._

"_Ready!"_

_The corporal is yelling as loud as he can, or so it seems to my tortured mind. Oh Aslan, make it quick for him._

"_Aim!"_

_I can't breathe. Edmund has refused a blindfold and is staring dead ahead. I can't breathe, oh lord, I can't breathe!_

"_FIRE!"_

_I see the recoil of the rifles, hear the thwack of bullet on bone, the white cloth and the front of his tunic are drenched in a rapidly spreading sticky, black stain, he cries out and the man I would have been proud to call my brother goes limp against the ropes._

_My mind has shut down completely, unable to comprehend the thing I have just seen. Even as two men untie him, even as his body falls face first onto the concrete, I cannot believe he's dead. It is only when I see the shockingly crimson blood spattered up the white wall behind the pole that I understand._

_I barely notice as I am lead into the courtyard. My hands and legs are tied and it's only then that I notice something. Before Edmund was… anyway, there was talking and laughter. The process was long and drawn out but there is none of that now. The courtyard is eerily quiet._

_When the last member of the firing squad steps back into line, having just pinned a hanky to my chest, I look at each man in turn and give them a nod and a small smile. Nearly twenty years as King of Narnia has taught me that forgiveness is the greatest gift any man can give._

_It's as if a weight has been lifted from their shoulders. I know that, if Lucy were here, thank Aslan she's not, she would say that makes me really magnificent. I disagree. I am simply making it a little easier for the men in front of me to sleep tonight. It's the best I can give them right now._

_I hear the corporal giving the "ready!" command._

_I like Ed have refused a blindfold and am straight over the heads of the squad. That way, I don't see them pull the trigger and they don't have to watch my face as I die._

"_Aim!"_

_The fear is gone now. As I told the padre,, I have nothing to lose and everything to gain in death._

"_FIRE!"_

_This time I hear the rifle shot, then a terrible, all consuming pain in my chest, it has made me open my mouth but I can't remember if I screamed or gasped, the grey concrete at my feet now has spots of red and I can feel something warm and metallic smelling on my stomach and spreading across my front, my head lolls but I'm still alive! _

_After a minute or two of trying to tell them I'm not dead, realise nothing is coming from my mouth. I can feel them cutting the ropes around my wrists and knees. I can't hold myself up any longer. I hit the ground hard. A lion roars somewhere but I can only take one last rattling breath, before my body crumpled around me. Pain takes over and I am lost to the dark. _


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Hi! Me again! Sorry I'm on a bit of a high because I have got an A in GCSE maths (don't even go there)! Not entirely sure how I managed it, but it seems fitting to publish a celebratory chapter on a celebratory event, so here it is chaps! The final chapter of shot at dawn. ENJOY!**

_I can feel something hard on my chest. And the ghost of pain. What was that about? The hard thing moves slightly and I hear a sigh. What on earth is going on? What I can feel under me isn't my regulation 5"4', scratchy army-issue mattress. It feels like a proper feather one. Quite frankly after three years of lice and straw I'm surprised I can remember feather beds. It doesn't even feel like my bed at home. It's more like… hang on._

_I sit bolt upright and the hard thing falls off me with an annoyed grunt. I look around me. There's no mistaking it. My bedroom at cair paravel. With one or two changes, I begin to notice. There is a second wardrobe against the far wall and two sets of toiletries instead of one on my dressing table… I should have guessed._

_Smiling I look down to see Susan spread eagled next to me. Even though I was expecting it, I gape down at her. She is no longer the white faced, care worn, overworked nurse I saw at Ardennes. She is a queen and beautiful. Like in our wedding photo._

_I stare indulgently down at her for sometime before I decide to make absolutely sure she's real. I reach out and pinch her arm, the flesh is reassuringly warm and soft under my fingers and she rolls to face me. My indulgent smile vanishes as I see the fury flashing in her eyes, _

"_Having already pushed me across the bed, did you really feel it necessary to pinch me as well?" she enquires icily and I can't help but smile. She's never been good in the morning. She is still glaring at me but I hear her laughing when I grin and throw my arms around her. I look up and see how her eyes are shining, she kisses my cheek and her hair falls across her shoulders as she leans forward and whispers, "Welcome home, Peter."_

_When we are dressed, I take her hand. I still can't believe she's here, besides, we'd both much rather be close to each other. She says she has something to show me and I follow her willingly. We are just walking through the corridors, enjoying each other's company when she speaks._

"_So how did you get here?"_

_I smile ruefully "Ed and I were shot for your murder."_

_She pales but I squeeze her hand and she recovers quickly "Just after I was…" I stop because she has that look again. It comes with marriage. "I heard Aslan roar, I didn't think I was going to die, but then I just sort of… did." I finish, lamely and shudder, reflecting on the last few moments of concentrated agony. "You?" I ask looking at her. She blushes under my gaze. "Well, you know I'd been having… doubts. You know, I just felt so… so worthless! I mean the rest of you, you've all got special roles you know, Lucy, the discoverer, Edmund, the spiritual and you, the high king and I was just… Susan! I used to wonder if it was all just a game I didn't have the imagination to play! And seeing all those terrible things at the hospital… don't look at me like that!" she cries plaintively._

"_I'm not looking at you like anything! Sorry." I say because I'm eager for her to continue and because, she giving me the Look and I have been her husband long enough to know when my life is in danger. _

"_Well, after…"_

"_The accident, yes" I put in hurriedly._

"_I saw aslant. He said that he knew I'd given up hope, but when I prayed to him when I was dying he wanted to come back and give me a choice. So I told him how sorry I was and he did that lion power transfer thingy and I cried for ages but the next thing I knew I woke up here." She flushes raspberry. "In your bed." _

_I look at her incredulous "we are married, Susan!"_

"_I know but…"_

_Our dialogue is cut short as we draw level with, as I now remember, Edmund's bedroom door. I open it and we both fall to our knees as we see the masses of golden fur and solemn brown eyes of the great lion himself. Aslan has returned._

"_Rise High King Peter, rise Queen Susan." He rumbles, nodding his head to each of us. As we both scramble to our feet, I see Edmund peeping out from behind the massive shaggy mane. "Ed!" we both yelp and Susan nearly falls over the hem of her dress in her effort to hug him._

_Aslan turns to me "I believe congratulations are in order, king Peter. You have a beautiful and intelligent wife." Susan goes pink and beams, curtsying her thanks. "Who, I believe, has something very important to show you." The lion looks at Susan and nods._

_The mood is back to being sombre as Susan takes my hand and leads me out of the room, Aslan and Edmund following close behind. I smile as I catch the snatches of conversation._

"… _but what about Lucy?"_

"_your sister will join you in due course." Aslan sounds faintly annoyed._

"_But __when__?"_

_Finally we stop at a small door. I've never been here before, Susan must have though because she opens it and pulls me through. The room inside is bare except for a small but beautiful crib. Susan drops my hand and crosses to it. She bends over and I see a small smile spread across her face, it can't be. Can it? _

_When my wife straightens up she is holding a tiny child, no more than a week old. She is wearing a tiny, pink version of the dress Susan herself is wearing. As Susan lays the child carefully in my arms, I know for sure who it is._

"_King Peter." Says Aslan softly. "Princess Emily has been given another chance. Your Daughter is here to stay." The lion comes forward and touches the baby lightly on the head with his tongue. Tears are prickling my eyes and there is a lump in my throat. She is perfect and I am a father again. And I look at my family, my daughter starting to grizzle in my arms and the glow in my wife's eyes._

_When I am lying in bed that night I reach out and take her hand. It has been three months. It felt like longer._


End file.
